The Great Teacher Switch!
by gahhMinerva
Summary: Dumbledore has an idea to make life at Hogwarts more exciting. What will happen when the Hogwarts professors have to teach a different class for the day? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Um, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter stuff. Not me. I'm not J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Notes: **I have actually been trying to write this story for about four years. Apparently, I got stuck or busy or something like that. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy it! Also, Albus and Minerva are together in this, but it's not really a shippy fic—so it should still be enjoyable for those who don't like ADMM.

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**The Great Teacher Switch!**

"Must I take part in this, Albus?" I whined. Albus was my husband, of course. I wouldn't be caught dead whining to anyone else. I am considered too severe to even tolerate this sort of behavior.

"Why, of course, dear! Surely you want to participate in my wonderful new idea. Even _you_ said that Hogwarts life was a bit dull sometimes."

Albus had formulated a ridiculous idea that we teachers _switch places_, as in, we would teach a different class while another teacher taught ours. Really, what nonsense! I was not sure he could possibly think of something more outrageous.

"Would you prefer I let Boggarts loose throughout the school? Because that was another idea I had..."

Or perhaps he could.

"Boggarts! Albus, have you lost your head? The first years will be scared out of their wits! They don't even know the _Riddikulus_ spell, and Heaven only knows if half the school can perform it properly. Really, Albus, can't you think of anything else?"

"What was wrong with my teacher switch idea? I thought it was quite a good suggestion," he said with a puppy-dog look in his eyes. Albus obviously wanted to have us take a stab at a completely different field of magical expertise, and he wanted this very badly. Merlin, I couldn't resist those eyes.

"Fine," I conceded. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, I thought. Hopefully someone like Filius would be covering my class... somebody _skilled_ enough. One missed day of a proper Transfiguration education would be highly unacceptable.

"Excellent," Albus smiled. "I'll inform the others right now." He kissed my forehead. "Thank you for agreeing to this, my dear."

"Do you think I could have resisted your pouting face?" I asked, shaking my head. "Of course not."

He chuckled. "Even so, I'm glad you're behind me, Minerva. I'd best be off. Expect a staff meeting tonight for class selection!" he exclaimed, blowing me another kiss as he slipped out the door.

Albus was almost unstoppable when he had a "fun" new idea, but I couldn't help but smile. He always got so excited and could hardly wait to get started with the whole shenanigan. He was such a child sometimes.

I moved over to the window of our shared quarters and observed the school grounds. It was a Sunday afternoon, and many of the students were outside enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. Early February rarely brought spring-like conditions, and it was nice that they could take advantage of the beautiful day. Unfortunately, I could not go outside and soak up the winter sun. I had obligations that included marking papers and writing lesson plans.

Thus, I headed to my personal office to work. While walking through the school corridors, I noticed the Potions Master, Severus Snape, striding briskly toward the dungeons. His expression was quite sullen, even for him. I wondered if a clumsy student blew up another cauldron in detention. He looked positively murderous.

"Don't tell me a student exploded something on you today," I said as he approached. His dark eyes darted toward mine.

"It's that husband of yours!" he exclaimed. "He's forced me into some barmy scheme..."

_Oh dear_, I thought. Albus must have told him about the teacher switch. How he ever made Snape agree to this, I didn't know.

"And they say the Dark Lord's evil!" he barked, stomping past me to escape to his subterranean office.

With twinkling eyes, Albus greeted all of us and began the staff meeting. I scanned the room. Somehow, he managed to persuade a majority of the Hogwarts teaching faculty to attend. Perhaps he hadn't told them about his goofy idea. Certainly Professor Sprout, who was chatting with Hagrid, didn't want anybody else to supervise the care of her plants.

_No, he couldn't have told her the entire truth,_ I thought. _I'm not so sure about the others though..._

"Well, I'm sure you all know why you're here," Albus began. "I am greatly pleased at your enthusiasm to participate in this event. Now, without further ado, let us select our new classes!"

A swish of his wand produced a starry purple bag, which he held up in the air for all to see. To my astonishment, there was a murmur of excitement among my colleagues. I gawked at them and didn't notice Professor Snape weave through the small crowd to join me on its outskirts.

"How in Merlin's name did he get them all to come?" he muttered darkly to me.

"I have yet to determine that," I answered in a low voice. Both Severus and I were scowling at the zeal of our co-workers. "We must be the only sane people here."

"Agreed!" Snape murmured just before Albus continued.

"Yes, it is quite exciting!" Albus grinned, overjoyed at the positive response. He motioned for silence and proceeded. "In this bag, there are eight slips of parchment, each bearing the name of a course. You are to, without peeking, pull out one slip. The class you've pulled will be the class you will teach tomorrow. Let us begin now with, ahh..."

As Albus tried to decide, the door burst open. A sea of wild shawls walked into the room.

"My crystal ball commanded me to attend a gathering in the staff room, and thus I hurried to join you, my fellow staff members," Sybill Trelawney announced mistily.

I frowned at her arrival. The crackpot "Seer" always annoyed me to no end with her frequent predictions.

"Ah, Sybill, welcome!" Albus greeted heartily. "I am glad you came. Please, do join us. I imagine you are interested in participating in the Great Teacher Switch? It will take place only tomorrow; you simply teach a different class for the day."

Trelawney's eyes widened considerably.

"My tea leaves informed me of such a change. Yes, Headmaster, I shall partake in this event!" she exclaimed profoundly. I rolled my eyes.

"Marvelous, this makes nine." Albus flicked his wand, and a bit of parchment materialized and drifted into the violet bag. "Let us begin! Filius, would you please choose a subject?"

Professor Flitwick stepped toward Albus, who was stooping to Flitwick's height and was holding open the bag. He reached into the bag and pulled out a slip of parchment. He read it quickly and rejoined the crowd.

"Well, what did you get?" Professor Sprout asked curiously.

"Yes, please share with us your selection after choosing," Albus said.

Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice could be heard somewhere among the other teachers: "Astronomy!"

"Be sure not to break my telescope!" Professor Sinistra, the real Astronomy professor, warned playfully, smiling. A few of my colleagues laughed quietly.

Next was Hagrid, whose enormous hand nearly got stuck in the bag when he picked his class When his hand finally emerged, he said, "Well, I got Potions. I'll try my best, I s'pose." He sidled back into the group of teachers, looking uncertain about his new assignment. "...Yeh okay there, Professor Snape?"

Snape had slapped his hand to his forehead and looked absolutely mortified. Surely he was imagining what damage Hagrid would deal in his one day on the job. Explosions, spills, cauldron meltdowns… Only Merlin knew what could happen with Hagrid as the Potions teacher.

Hagrid shrugged and Professor Lupin stepped forward.

"Arithmancy," he stated simply and resumed his former position next to Hagrid. Professor Vector smiled and wished him luck.

"It's your turn, Minerva," Albus said to me with a special sparkle in his blue eyes.

I put on a false smile and reached into the velvet star-patterned bag, which thoroughly resembled one of Albus's robes. It was no surprise he'd create a bag such as this. I shuffled through the slips of parchment for a few seconds before grasping one. Finally, I removed my hand and read my subject's name. Then I read it again. And again, just to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me. I tried to tell myself that I couldn't have _possibly_ pulled this subject. It just wasn't allowable. I wondered if it were a hallucination. I did feel a bit lightheaded, after all.

"What is it, dear?" Albus asked after a moment, releasing one of his hands from the bag to place a hand on my shoulder. I could hear some of the other teachers begin to whisper amongst themselves as I stood rooted to the spot, my hands trembling.

"Divination," I murmured softly. A look of realization dawned on Albus's face. He knew as well as anyone that I _hated_ Divination with a heated passion. I didn't want to have anything to do with the subject. After a few more moments, at last, I pulled myself together and said a bit more acidly than intended, "Divination." I swiftly retreated to a chair behind Severus, who seemed to be stifling laughter.

"Good luck with that," he sneered and sniggered silently to himself. He slipped into the shadows to hide his grinning face.

I glared at him, but he was unfazed.

Professor Sinistra was next, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she selected Transfiguration. At least this now eliminated the possibility of Sybill also teaching my class. Professor Sinistra was competent enough. I forced a smile at her, despite myself.

"Severus! It is your turn to select," Dumbledore said cheerily, motioning for the Potions Master to step forward. Snape put on an emotionless mask as he approached the Headmaster. His expression remained unchanged after he had read the slip of parchment.

"Care of Magical Creatures," he said shortly before returning to his former position in the shadows to brood. He swore under his breath. Hagrid had been tending to the Blast-Ended Skrewts this weekend.

The remaining professors were rather agreeable about Dumbledore's idea, and they seemed pleased with their assignments. Professor Sprout would be teaching Charms, Professor Trelawney would have Defense Against the Dark Arts ("I foresaw this!"), and Professor Vector would be running the greenhouses as Herbology instructor for the day.

After everybody knew what position they would be filling the next day, Albus advised us to speak with the regular professor to determine what plans they had already set for Monday. He also told us that if we had scheduled any exams, we should postpone them until after the Switch. Not wanting to speak with Sybill Trelawney at all, I swiftly made my way toward Professor Sinistra to discuss Transfiguration.

Once I briefed Aurora about my plans and informed her that I would leave a written copy on my desk in the classroom, I hoped to evade Professor Trelawney, even though I had no idea what I would do in her place tomorrow. My hopes were dashed when I saw Remus, who said, "Ah, and here is Minerva now. Good luck to you tomorrow, Sybill," and brushed past me to find Professor Vector. He shot a smile in my direction, and I knew I could not avoid the Divination instructor.

"Minerva," she said cautiously, sensing my unwillingness to speak with her or teach her class. Despite all the fog in her head, she was not actually stupid. This much I acknowledged.

"Sybill."

"I will—I will draw up a plan for you and place it on my desk."

I refrained from asking why she hadn't already done so, if she had predicted this change, as she had mentioned earlier.

"Thank you."

I stepped away and out of the Staff Room as quickly as I could after our encounter, and I found Severus making his exit at the same time.

"Going to search for the gift of Sight, Minerva?" he drawled. He obviously took pleasure in my misfortune.

I raised an eyebrow at him. His situation was not far better, although I would have traded with him if I could. Care of Magical Creatures seemed _useful_ to me, at least.

"Should you be so concerned about what I will be doing? _I_ will still have a classroom when the day is over," I pointed out. "_And_ all of my body parts."

He glowered and failed to return with a snappy retort. Displeased, he turned on his heel and swept away, likely to attempt to protect the dungeons from the mishaps that Hagrid would cause, using any spells he knew. His panic actually amused me momentarily, but quickly remembering what I would have to do the next day, I retreated to my office to gather my thoughts and formulate a plan to make Albus's Great Teacher Switch more bearable.

Nobody, not even Sybill, could predict what the next day would bring.

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**Author's Notes:** I intend for this to have just one more chapter. I'll try to update quickly! (As in, in a time span significantly shorter than four years. Less than a month, hopefully.) Thank you to everyone who read. :) - Erin


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

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**The Great Teacher Switch!**

_Chapter Two_

There was no way out of this mess.

I could console myself by thinking that at least I wasn't Severus Snape, who might be short a few fingers by lunchtime. And _thank the heavens_ that I wasn't a Potions student today, who would unfortunately have to deal with Hagrid as their Potions instructor, who had only the pieces of his snapped wand and the formal magical education of a third-year.

Despite these reminders, I still did not feel any less unhappy about the whole matter. I defiantly pondered that perhaps there _was_ still a way to get out of this.

It was only five in the morning, and I hadn't slept a wink due to all of the thoughts flowing throughout my brain, and now I was rapidly trying to concoct a plan to convince Albus that I could not take part in his Great Teacher Switch after all.

Granted, my scheme was about as clever as that of any first year's attempts to skip class, but since I was convinced that Albus was actually eleven years old sometimes, I thought perhaps I could fool him.

Albus woke up. I pretended to be asleep still. He didn't rouse me, and I heard him rise to get a shower. When the water started to run, and I was sure he would not be returning to our room until he was done, I snatched my wand off of the nightstand and repeatedly muttered Warming Charms at myself. When I felt certain that my skin felt unusually warm enough, I replaced my wand in its normal resting place and resumed my feigned sleep.

In a few minutes, Albus was back in the bedroom, humming to himself, and then he suddenly stopped. He must have realized that I was still "asleep," which was highly out of the ordinary, because even on the days when I didn't rise before him (which were rare enough), the sound of the shower running would always wake me up. _Always_.

"Minerva?"

His footsteps approached me, and he laid a hand upon my shoulder, gently shaking me.

"Wh—what?" I asked, fluttering my eyes open. I glanced at the clock, and, instead of flying out of bed like I might be expected to upon oversleeping, I slowly sat up, trying to clutch at my forehead as if I were instinctively reacting to pain. I was no actress, and I was sure that my actions were highly exaggerated, but my husband did not seem to realize.

"Are you all right?" he said, and he reached up to brush my hair away from my eyes, grazing my cheeks and forehead in the process. A look of concern passed over his face, and he put his hand back on my forehead, as if to double-check that the heat radiating from it were actually real.

While I hated lying to Albus, I was also too stubborn to go back from what I had done. I waited impatiently for his response. He straightened up and appeared to study me carefully. He frowned in disapproval. For a moment, I thought he was on to me.

"My dear, I think you have a fever," he said. "Do you feel ill?"

I hadn't actually planned anything beyond this point. I looked into his cool blue eyes and could see the disappointment beneath them. I felt a twang of guilt.

"I know how important today is to you," I said in a voice much smaller than I expected. I wondered if I should apologize right now, before he called me out.

He sighed.

"Minerva, if you're not well… Don't worry about today. I'll tell Poppy to expect you."

My jaw went slack. Even if Albus bought my story—which I was not wholly convinced that he did—there was no way I could fool Poppy Pomfrey. I had not expected this. I thought he would just tell me to stay in bed, not visit the Hospital Wing.

"I—I don't need—" I began to protest, but Albus interrupted.

"You will see her," he said with a tone of finality. His eyes twinkled madly.

He knew. He had to know. I gaped stupidly at him, unsure of what I was supposed to say now.

"Now I have a few announcements to make at breakfast." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I'll tell Poppy not to keep you for a week."

He finished dressing and left. And I still had a whole miserable day ahead of me, starting with Poppy's scolding me for feigning illness.

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I hesitantly approached the Hospital Wing. Perhaps if Albus had decided to have everyone on the staff switch places, someone incompetent would attempt to diagnose my nonexistent ailment, potentially relieving me of my temporary duty as Divination instructor. I still didn't know what I was going to do with the students today. I couldn't believe today was actually happening, honestly.

Bracing myself for an examination of shame, I pushed open the door.

"Minerva!"

I barely even got over the threshold when Poppy came bustling toward me, her heels clicking loudly and rapidly across the tile floor.

"Dumbledore told me he thought you caught the _flu_; now come, come with me."

"This _really_ isn't necessary," I said quickly, as she ushered me toward a crisp, white bed.

"Now don't be ridiculous. This will only take a moment." She all but shoved me into a seated position on an empty bed. To my left was a sleeping fourth-year Hufflepuff, who had been injured in Quidditch practice. To my right was a first-year Gryffindor, who was recovering from some rather unfortunate side-effects of a failed potion, which his friends had dared him to drink.

Madam Pomfrey readied her wand, and I waited for the diagnostic spell that would reveal that I was in perfect health. Suddenly, with an uncharacteristically conniving grin on her face, she pointed her wand at the pocket of my robes and said, "_Prior incantato!_"

My wand, though stowed away, showed the last spell I had cast. Poppy rolled her eyes.

"_Really_, Minerva? A _Warming Charm_? Aren't you more clever than that?"

I wasn't sure if I should play dumb or not. I glared at her and remained silent.

"It would have been awfully convenient for you to fall ill today," she said, giving me a sharp look, "_and_ the Headmaster thought as much. He may be somewhat barmy, but he's not dense, you know."

I merely continued to scowl. There was nothing for me to say. Denial would have solved nothing.

"Don't you—don't you normally take House points for little stunts like this?" Madam Pomfrey pressed.

I mumbled an affirmative response.

"Well—will you do the honors, or shall I fetch Dumbledore to do it for you?"

_She can't be serious, _I thought. _Professors—Heads of House, especially—don't lose House points._

She raised an eyebrow and waited. I mentally swore. She _was_ serious.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," I said through gritted teeth.

She looked satisfied. I did not know why she took so much pleasure in my punishing myself, but I gladly obeyed when she told me to run along to breakfast. The students beside me must have awakened at some point during our conversation, because they both looked utterly bewildered. As I walked out the door, I could hear Poppy say to them, "Your friends will have an even _stranger_ day ahead of them…"

I was almost certainly one of the last to arrive at the Great Hall. Albus must have already announced the details of his Great Teacher Switch. The place was buzzing with excited chatter, much more so than the mornings typically brought. Students seemed eager to see their teachers outside of their comfort zones, and nearly all of them were on board with the idea. As I walked past the Gryffindor table, I overheard some of my lions place bets on whether or not Snape would die outside in the sunlight.

Somehow, the students' excitement was enough to render them oblivious to the chaos unfolding at the staff table.

"I haven't brewed a potion in decades—"

"Filius, for the seventh years' lesson, show me the proper wand movement again—"

"—and I can't jus' stop a potion from hurtin' someone with pure strength like I can with magical creatures—"

"So I flick my wrist like this?"

"No, no! You must keep your wrist steady!"

"Oh! Sorry!"

My eyes darted from colleague to colleague, watching them all spiral into a panic as they hoped to master spells and memorize facts that they hadn't needed since their days as students. Hagrid was talking Snape's ear off, desperately trying to learn as much as he could before the first hour, while simultaneously growing more and more afraid of the Potions Master's increasing impatience. Professor Sprout, though typically a confident and skilled witch, struggled to perform a NEWT-level Charm due to her nervous trembling, and consistently failed when practicing for Professor Flitwick.

Then there was the rest of the staff, valiantly engaging in individual pursuits of the knowledge they needed. Remus Lupin furiously scanned the pages of a thick textbook; Aurora Sinistra, to my great relief, successfully completed transformations of her silverware into everything from pincushions to furniture to live animals (all on the table). Professor Trelawney, who I was surprised to see reading a guide to Defense, suddenly snapped her neck up and began to speak in a strange voice, seemingly making an _actual_ prophecy. I couldn't understand a word she said amid all the noise surrounding her.

The only person wholly unfazed was, of course, Albus Dumbledore.

"I see you are feeling better already," he said when I reached my chair, seemingly unaware of his faculty's hysteria.

"As I am sure you expected," I replied tersely.

"Indeed." His voice was calm and level, and not the least bit triumphant or angry. "You know—" he began after some time had passed, "it won't be so bad. There are only three sections of Divination today, after all."

I sighed.

"I know. But despite all the reassurances I grant myself, I can't help but feel that this whole idea is a big mistake. There is going to be some catastrophe today. I know there will be."

For a moment, Albus looked pensive. His eyes were aglow with deep thought, as if he were seriously considering what I had just shared with him. Of course, any agreement with my worries was _not_ what was on his mind.

"You _did_ go to find your Inner Eye last night!" he exclaimed.

I threw him a stern look.

"Let's be serious now, Albus," I said brusquely, feeling the heat rise in my face. I had quickly grown annoyed. "Today is a recipe for disaster. Look at everyone! They've all gone to pieces!"

"I see no reason to be so concerned—"

Suddenly, some silverware clattered loudly against a breakfast plate as Severus Snape threw down his fork and rose to his full height. The pure coldness in his eyes was so intense that I thought icicles might shoot out of them at the victim of his discontent.

"Do not—for one moment—falsely believe—that you can even _compare_ potions brewing to cooking! And if your potions work is anything like _your_ cooking—"

The entire table almost flipped over, taking a few jugs of pumpkin juice and several of his colleagues' breakfasts with it, as Hagrid bumped the table when he, too, stood, towering over Snape.

"I can cook jus' fine!" he roared indignantly. He stormed out of the Great Hall, knocking his extra large chair over in the process, and did not refrain from muttering a few colorful, offensive names about Snape.

For once, the Great Hall was silent. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables looked like a convention of ghosts, their faces so pale from shock and fright. The Slytherin table shot dirty looks at Hagrid until they saw him out the doors, and a mixture of confusion and curiosity overtook the Gryffindor table. At the staff table, everyone had stopped what he or she was doing. Professor Sprout left Flitwick suspended upside-down in midair, while the a pig, only half-transformed from an armadillo, began to eat happily from Aurora Sinistra's plate.

Nobody moved for what must have been five minutes. Finally, a visibly shaking Severus stalked away, ignoring all of the eyes that followed him as his robes billowed past.

"Can you let me down, Pomona?" a squeaky voice broke the silence.

Sprout apologetically returned Flitwick to his seat. Slowly, the chatter resumed.

"No cause for concern, Albus?" I said pointedly.

"Perhaps there are some flaws in my plan," he reluctantly admitted. "Maybe next time, we should—"

"_No 'next time'!_ Are you _insane_? If none of my disgruntled colleagues kills you after today, do not be surprised if _I_ do!"

Albus looked just a bit frightened.

"I swear, if you don't even _acknowledge_ that this event is just asking for trouble, I… I don't know _what_ I'll do. But do not for one minute believe that you are immune to the consequences of your creation. You may be a mere spectator in this whole debacle, but you _will_ be responsible for cleaning up whatever messes arise from it. Mark my words, Albus Dumbledore."

In a huff, I strode quickly out of the Great Hall. Prepared or not, a very long day awaited me.

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**A/N: **Apparently I got a little verbose and this is turning out longer than I expected. There will be (at least) one more chapter. We'll see what happens. Thank you very much for reading, and an extra special thanks out to all my reviewers! You rock!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** All things _Harry Potter_ are things I do not own.

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_Third Years: Tealeaf readings. The students shall work in pairs and practice reading tealeaves. Please refer to the introductory chapter of _Unfogging the Future_ by Cassandra Valatsky for technique and symbol interpretation._

_Fourth Years: Star chart analysis. The students are to work individually to determine how planetary locations will affect their future lives. Please refer to Chapter 5 of the Valatsky text for further information._

_Fifth Years: Dream interpretation. Students will use the class set of _The Dream Oracle_ by Inigo Imago to interpret their most recent dreams. They shall work in groups of three or four in order to analyze a variety of dreams. Interested students may consider further study by reading _Interpretation of Dreams _by the Muggle psychologist Sigmund Freud._

I read the agenda that Professor Trelawney left for her on the desk in the North Tower classroom. At least I had a concrete idea of what I was supposed to do with the students. Although I had never taken a Divination class before (I didn't believe in it even at the young age of 13 years), I was sure that making it up as I went along was the most anyone expected of me.

I sighed and began to thumb through the required textbooks for the course. The students would arrive soon. Perhaps I should have some clue about what they could conclude from their readings before they started.

"I asked everyone at the table at breakfast, and _no one_ will 'fess up to it," Ron Weasley's voice echoed up into the classroom. "I keep track of these things. I know how many points we had last night."

"Ron, it's just ten points. We can earn them back in no time," Hermione Granger said rationally.

"No! It's not _just_ ten points!" Ron responded hotly. "Whenever _I_ lose House points, I own up to it. I think we all deserve to know who managed to get points docked between curfew and breakfast."

_Crap,_ I thought. _They actually keep track of where the points come from and go to._

"Ron's got a point, Hermione," Harry Potter chimed in. "Usually we're the ones breaking curfew and losing points. Everyone knows that, and we take the fall."

"And if it wasn't us, _who_ was it? It wasn't even my brothers or Lee! Who else manages to cause trouble in the middle of the night?" Ron slung his bag off his shoulder and slammed a dusty, old book down on a desk.

"Ron, why don't you just ask Professor McGonagall right now if you're so curious? I'm sure she knows," Hermione said.

I mentally swore. _Oh, sweet Merlin, don't ask me. Nobody needs to know about this!_

"I will! Professor—"

My eyes widened as large as saucers, I was sure. _No, really, don't ask me. Don't. Just don't._

"Excuse me, Professor?" Ron tried again.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" I replied reluctantly.

"Um, I was just wondering why we're short ten House points since last night."

I pressed my lips into a long, thin line. What was I supposed to say? I couldn't lie about it. After all, they would find out sooner or later when the first year left the Hospital Wing.

"A very interesting thing happened this morning, actually…" I began. I looked around the classroom to see how many people were paying attention to this conversation. Nearly everyone had arrived, but fortunately many were engaged in their own chatter among their friends.

I paused. Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked at me expectantly. _What's the best way to phrase this? Should I just get it over with?_

"You no longer have to search for the culprit, Mr. Weasley. None of your Housemates is hiding anything. They did not, as far as anyone else is aware, break any rules."

Ron looked puzzled.

"Professor, I don't understand. How can we lose points if no one broke any rules?"

I inhaled deeply.

"I didn't say _no one_ broke any rules…" I said. By now, most of the class was listening. _"_I suppose I should be frank. I lost them."

A moment of silence fell over the classroom. Did they just hear what they thought they just heard?

"I'm sorry, Professor—did you say that _you_ lost them?" Harry asked.

I bobbed my head up and down slowly. _Yes, that is what I said. I don't want to say it again._

"Is that even _possible_?" Seamus Finnigan roared in disbelief, his mouth agape in confusion.

"I wondered the same thing earlier this morning, Mr. Finnigan," I said through gritted teeth, just as the bell rang. "Anyway, I suppose we should get started. If the Headmaster finds out that I don't even attempt to teach you Divination, I'll probably get in trouble again."

Hermione Granger shot her hand into the air.

"I, for one, would not object to you teaching us a Transfiguration lesson instead, Professor," she interjected.

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown glared at her. Divination was one of their favorite classes.

"As much as I would love to do that, Miss Granger, I am afraid that I must let you continue with your Divination education. Now, please take out your copy of _Unfogging the Future_ and open to the first chapter. Today you will be reading tealeaves. Please select a partner, gather the appropriate materials—" I gestured toward the teacups and saucers Professor Trelawney had set out—"and perform an analysis based on the symbolism explained in the text."

The third-year students obediently set to work. It did not seem that I would have to do much "teaching" at all; everything Professor Trelawney had planned involved the students practicing for themselves—practicing things that could not really be taught. I had to admit that I had some curiosity about what sorts of predictions the students (or rather, the textbook) would make. It all seemed rather absurd, so perhaps there would be some entertainment value to these classes.

"Er, Ron—what do you s'pose this looks like?" Harry asked his friend, showing him his tealeaves.

Ron flipped through the pages of his textbook.

"It kind of—it kind of looks like this one," he said pointing to a picture. "Oi, mate, that's the Grim! That's not supposed to be good."

I peeked over their shoulders to see what they were looking at.

_Oh right, of course—the Grim predicts death…_ _Well, this is a typical Divination class, right?_

"Perhaps you should take this as a sign not to attend your Potions class today, Mr. Potter," I said. "With all due respect to Hagrid, of course, but, ah… Don't tell anyone I suggested you skip class."

Harry and Ron laughed, albeit nervously. Suddenly, shouts and colorful obscenities could be heard from outside, even though they were all the way up in the North Tower. I went to the nearest window to investigate the situation.

Professor Snape appeared to have caught his robes on fire—or rather, a Blast-Ended Skrewt ignited his robes when propelling itself in one direction. He attempted to ward off the eight-foot-long creature with various jinxes, hexes, and curses. I wondered where his students were. Hopefully he had told them all to go somewhere safe… like inside the castle.

However, perhaps the castle was not so safe either, because the sound of a loud explosion emanated from far below us, causing the teacups and saucers to rattle.

"Bloody hell, what was that?" Ron exclaimed, grabbing his teacup just before it fell off his shaking desk.

"Language, Mr. Weasley," I said curtly, but I had the same question. The obvious explanation was that Hagrid blew up a cauldron, but since he was all the way down in the dungeons, it seemed unlikely that they would hear the effects from the Divination classroom. Granted, we also managed to hear Professor Snape's swears when he was out on the grounds, so it was certainly not impossible.

After the sound of another explosion, I decided enough was enough. A third time would most certainly _not_ be a charm, and somebody had to put a stop to the madness. With Severus running around outside with his robes on fire, rogue blast-ended skrewts roaming the grounds, and the dungeons potentially destroyed, Albus needed to call off his "Great" Teacher Switch. _Now_.

Quickly, I sent a Patronus to the headmaster with the following message: "Albus, it's time you get your head out of your arse and cancel your damn event. Things are already out of hand, and _you need to deal with it_."

Whether or not he would actually do something, _I_ would. I turned to address the group of third-years.

"Class, this is probably frowned upon, but I fear I have no choice but to leave you all alone so I can save this castle and its inhabitants from any more needless damage, physical or mental. Stay here. I do not know _what_ I will encounter downstairs, but it is most certainly not good. Therefore, I do not want any of you to leave this classroom until you're instructed otherwise. It might be unsafe."

"Professor—" Hermione Granger eagerly called out while raising her hand. "Do you need help?"

"Yeah, maybe it would be best not to go alone, Professor," Harry chimed in.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. These two and their red-headed friend always threw themselves into the fray.

"Did I stutter? I do not want _any_ of you to leave this room," I said firmly. "Do _not_ try to take matters into your own hands, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter."

With that, I climbed down the ladder and ran down all of the staircases as fast as my legs would carry me. As I descended the large marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, Professor Snape burst through the castle's oak front doors… wearing only his shoes, black boxer-briefs, and a black dress shirt. Naturally, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight.

"Er, where the hell are your robes? And your _pants_?"

"In the lake," he said tersely.

"What?"

"They were on fire."

"Did _Aguamenti_ not occur to you?"

"Never mind that!" Snape shouted impatiently. "We have more important matters at hand!"

"Right," I said, darting my eyes away from his ghostly pale legs. "I'm coming with you."

Together, we raced into the dungeons and arrived at the Potions classroom. What lay before us was quite astonishing. Sure, it could have been worse, but at least one-fourth of the classroom furniture had _melted_, and a boiling hot potion continued to bubble over the top of its cauldron and spread over the floor. In its path _were_ several workbenches, which were reduced to puddles. Remnants of two exploded pewter cauldrons were scattered within the liquid, and it appeared that some of the pieces ended up in the cauldron of the out-of-control potion.

The class of first-years was huddled in a far corner behind Hagrid's enormous body. Most of the children looked terrified, but none looked as frightened as the half-giant, who was uselessly pointing his pink umbrella at the rapidly moving potion.

"You bumbling idiot!" Snape bellowed. "Why didn't you cast a bloody Stasis Charm? Or _Vanish_ it, perhaps?"

Hagrid whimpered loudly.

"Of course, that's right—it's because you have the formal education of a _third-year_!" Snape angrily Vanished the offensive potion, which took with it the work stations it melted.

"THAT WASN'T MY FAULT, YEH GREASY GIT!" Hagrid boomed defensively. "Besides, yer runnin' around the castle in yer _underwear_! Even _firs'_-years can dress better!"

"Well, _that_ is _your_ fault—your Blast-Ended Screwts are monstrosities!"

"Only 'cause yeh dunno how ter take care of 'em!"

The two silently fumed at each other until an oddly calm voice broke the tension.

"What is the problem here? Severus, where are your clothes?"

"Dumbledore, you complete _arse_!" I yelled and brandished my wand. Immediately, another wand and a pink umbrella pointed at him, too.

"Er, Minerva? Severus? Hagrid? What are you doing?"

"Deciding what hex to use first!" I growled.

"But there are children here!"

I scowled and slowly lowered my wand. Snape and Hagrid followed my lead.

"Fine. I'll deal with you personally later. Now go fetch Severus's clothes from the lake!"

"The lake?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Severus drawled. "My clothes are _in the lake_."

"Looks like yeh're goin' fer a swim, eh, Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Albus looked a bit nervous. The lake was quite vast and deep.

"Don't make me ask you again. _Go_," I demanded.

Once Albus's retreating back was out of sight, I turned to the students, who were still huddled in the corner, wide-eyed.

"Please return to your dormitories. All remaining classes are canceled for today." These statements I repeated with the aid of the Sonorous Charm so that I could inform the rest of the school. Then I sighed and turned to Severus.

"What are you going to do now, Minerva?" he asked.

"I'm going to ask the workers at Honeydukes to send all of Albus's usual orders to _me,_ and I'll hide them from him until he cries."

"You _wouldn't_."

"Oh, yes, I will." And I would. It was the _least_ he deserved.

"How evil of you, Minerva," Snape smirked. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

- COMPLETE -


End file.
